


Let's Start Again

by sailorkittycat



Category: British Actor RPF
Genre: Angst, Break Up, F/M, Fluff, Getting Back Together, Happy Ending, Romance, au!tom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-27
Updated: 2016-11-27
Packaged: 2018-09-02 17:22:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 13,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8676154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sailorkittycat/pseuds/sailorkittycat
Summary: OC doesn’t believe Tom loves her anymore so she decides it’s time to leave him





	1. Break up

**Author's Note:**

> Yikes I wrote this ages ago but I want to put up all my fics here from my tumblr so I guess I just have to #suffer (: I hope it's not too awful and that you enjoy it anyways!

“What are you doing?” I flinched at the harsh voice. Even though my back was to him I could still feel his hot glare burning me. I instantly felt guilt trickle into my thoughts, followed by panic but I stopped myself. No I thought to myself I have to do this.

“What are you doing home?” I asked, not bothering to turn around to face him. It was to let him know how much he didn’t matter to me anymore, although, deep down I knew that it was because I wouldn’t be able to face him without going back on myself. “I thought you were meant to be in Hong Kong” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. He wasn’t meant to be back until next week at the earliest and yet here he was, standing at the doorway of our – his bedroom. 

“Business finished up earlier than expected” he said curtly, I heard the familiar clack of his Italian leather shoes on the hardwood floor “What. Are. You. Doing?” Each word was punctuated by a step. I licked my dry lips; I could feel his breath on the back of my neck. He snatched up the black dress that he had gotten me not too long ago. It had been lying next to the left of the suitcase as I debated whether or not I should take it with me. It was a beautiful garment; inky black with little hints of gold. Tom had surprised me with it, saying that it was worth millions because of its designer. He had stepped to stand next to me now; viewing the entirety of the crime scene. I could see his grip on the dress tighten out of the corner of my eye.

“I’m packing” I stated, continuing to fold my clothes before placing them in the suitcase neatly. I had spent the morning deciding what I wanted and what I didn’t want. I needed to fit my life into the two bags I was planning on bringing with me. I had only made an exception for my books which I had packed first thing in boxes and shipped off to my new home. My suitcase would home my clothes and any other possessions I wished to bring along. My handbag would carry my essentials.

“Where are you going?” It was very subtle but his voice was beginning to lose the harsh, clipped tone. Was he actually starting to feel… something? Feel something for me?

“Away” I replied. I looked down at my hands, they were pressing down a folded pink jumper into the luggage. The jumper was old; it had been in my possession since I had met Tom, four years ago. It was baker-miller pink cashmere, Tom had complimented the colour and how soft it felt against his fingers. I distinctly remembered that shortly after saying how soft it felt, he kissed me and said that the softness did not compare to that of my own skin. I had giggled and kissed him back; letting his fingers caress me like he had with the material. He used to say things like that; talk to me like that; kiss me like that. But that was four years ago, a short time for some but a lifetime to me. Certainly, a lifetime for Tom.

There was an awful silence that followed; it was heavy with suffocating tension. Neither of us moved, it was as if we had been replaced with statues. “Dove…” Tom’s voice was so soft I almost didn’t register it but the use of his old pet name for me caught my attention. “My little dove” his voice remained soft; somewhat pleading.

I reluctantly met his gaze. I hadn’t looked him properly in the eyes for such a long time. They were still a breathtaking baby blue colour which didn’t help. I almost wished they were the ice blue that I had known for the past year but the frost seemed to have thawed. “Are you leaving me?” His voice was just about louder than a whisper now. Another pause. This patch of silence was even worse than the last. I gave up easily; looking down. I took a deep breath. “Yes.” I heard him sharply inhale and I almost flinched at the sound. “I can’t do this anymore” I said, I felt like he was owed some kind of explanation, even though it was fairly obvious why I was doing this. I had spent the past handful of months planning my escape and throughout the entire experience I kept wondering if he’d notice. I had been careful, moving money slowly; sneaking to Paris to look at apartments when he was away. I had even started to detach myself from him. It was for two reasons: firstly, to make leaving him hurt less (something that I hadn’t accomplished) and secondly, to see if he’d notice. I would usually send him cute texts and be a very affectionate girlfriend but I wanted to see if he’d say anything if I refrained and to my heart’s discontent, he didn’t.

A year ago he had come home and as per usual I had been waiting patiently.

“Tom, I missed you” I said lacing my arms around his neck. His blazer was cold against my warm skin but I didn’t mind, I just hugged him. He hesitantly hooked his arms around my waist; his grip on me wasn’t nearly as tight as I wanted.

“I missed you too” he said. The words lacked the warmth I was used to, it sounded almost robotic. I let go and looked at him cautiously “are you okay?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” He shrugged me off first and then his jacket. He took off his shoes and then (taking his bag) left. I followed behind him like a dog.

“Did something happen at work?” I asked. I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going; fully focused on him. As a result, I bumped into his back when he stopped to open the door to his office. “Ow” I whimpered softly, rubbing my forehead. I heard Tom sigh and turn around, effectively blocking me from following him.

“Work is fine” he reassured me, although it didn’t sound much like reassurance. He placed a peck on my forehead “I’ve already eaten.” Then he closed the door and before I could open it, he locked it.

He kept ignoring me. A couple of months later, I was lying in bed, pretending to be asleep as I waited for him. I had heard the door shut downstairs and heard him enter the room to go into the bathroom and take a shower. When I finally felt the bed sag, my heart was hammering in my chest against my ribs like a caged wild animal. Tom had been working late for the past week so I scarcely saw him. He slipped under the sheets and put himself in a position furthest away from me. I moved closer to him. He was lying on his back.

“Why do you have to work so late?” I asked, nuzzling into the side of his neck, kissing the same spot. The silk of my blush coloured babydoll brushed against his skin. It was new; the saleswoman at Coco de Mer had been very enthusiastic about the £300 silk and guipure babydoll. She had gushed over the sheer, underwire cups and had been eager to show me the tulle side panels which were meant to ‘reveal subtle glimpses of skin for a sensual bedtime look.’ I was foolishly convinced that maybe Tom was losing interest in me or that he just needed to relieve some tension. It had been the first dry spell for us and I was itching for the feel of him against me. As per usual, Tom was without clothes, save for the black boxer briefs he wore. After a day in snug shirts and fitted trousers, he liked the freedom that a lack of clothing brought. I however was dressed, after having spent a fair amount of time getting ready. I had blow dried my hair into waves because I knew that he preferred me with curls instead of the straight hair that I favoured. I had sprayed perfume on myself and painted my nails the same shade of soft pink as my nightwear. I had even spread a layer of edible marshmallow flavoured lipgloss on in the vain hope that he would lick it off.

“We all have to make sacrifices for work” Tom had replied blandly as my fingers traced over his jaw line.

“You deserve a reward for all your sacrifices” I purred, peppering kisses down his neck. I knew all his spots, just as he knew mine but he wasn’t reciprocating the affection. I leaned in closer, the lace that covered my breasts skimmed against his skin. My lips were hell bent on touching his but when I finally managed to kiss him on the lips, he still hadn’t moved a muscle. I brought my head up enough to peer at him, waiting for a reaction. He stared back, then he pressed his lips together and I felt his hands on my sides. I was about to lean in again when he flipped me so that my back was pressed against the mattress and he was the one holding me. I felt the familiar tingles of arousal awake inside of me; I wanted him to tease me like he used to, with his soft lips and his long fingers and his talented tongue but he didn’t. He leaned in close “go to sleep.” He let go of me and returned to his side of the bed, opting to sleep on his side; his back to me.

I stared at the ceiling, the red hot flush of rejection and embarrassment coursed through me, making my eyes water. I came to terms with the fact that I was an idiot and he obviously didn’t want me anymore. I should have known but instead I made a fool of myself, buying expensive lingerie in hopes that it would rekindle his love for me. I was confused more than anything; it hadn’t been too long ago that we were talking about getting married. He had casually mentioned how we had been together for three years and that maybe we should be thinking about the next steps. I was almost dizzy with happiness. Tom and I shared a bond that up to recently, I had believed to be unbreakable. I wanted to marry him. I wanted to wear a white dress and exchange vows with him; I wanted to have a honeymoon in some exotic, faraway place and most of all I wanted to spend the rest of my days being his. How dreams can crumble.

It was from then on that I decided to play him at his own game.

“How was your day?” Tom asked, he sat at the head of the dining table naturally. I sat on his right. I was rather surprised that he had wanted to eat dinner with me. He was texting and eating, just to let me know how important I was to him.

“It was fine” I said, not bothering to look up from the roast duck. Who would want to anyway? It was seasoned to perfection and wonderfully moist in my mouth.

“What did you do?” I looked up to see him looking at me with feigned interest.

“Nothing much, I just worked on my writing” I said. It wasn’t a complete lie; I had dedicated a good couple of hours to working on my book. It would be the third in the series, I had big plans for it but I couldn’t work on it as much as I wanted to because of what I had also been doing. I had consulted google and various books on where I wanted to live. I didn’t think I wanted to live in London anymore, even though it was my home. I wanted somewhere else. I was toying with the idea of New York or Toronto but I decided that I wanted to stay in Europe. I was thinking of Rome or Paris however, both were beautiful cities and language was no problem for me.

“That’s good” Tom said, his eyes were now glued to his phone. Who was he texting? Was he cheating on me? It would explain why he didn’t want me anymore. I gritted my teeth, it wouldn’t be long. Only a month or two at the most if I worked fast, then I’d be out of his hair.

The rest of dinner was silent as I focused on my planning. I finally selected Paris as my new place of residents. Paris was romantic; artistic, it would be the perfect place to renew my spirit. I had finished my first book in Paris and I remembered what an ideal place it had been to write. It was decided, I would move to Paris…

“What do you mean you can’t do this anymore?” Tom asked, I couldn’t tell if he was angry or sad, his tone was persistent and nothing else. 

“Tom, you must have noticed” I said, I could feel anger swell up in me again.

“Noticed what?”

“Us!” I said vehemently “haven’t you noticed us for this whole year?” Before he could open his mouth to retaliate I interrupted him “no, you probably haven’t because you notice nothing these days!”

“I’ve noticed that you’ve been ignoring me, lying to me, doing all kinds of things behind my back” he listed them off on his fingers.

“Don’t you dare try to put the blame on me!” I snapped “You’re the one who’s been ignoring me and lying to me and doing God knows what with God knows who behind my back!”

“I’ve been busy at work a little more but you see it fit to be overly dramatic as usual and leave!” Her tone was sarcastic but his teeth were bared and his jaw shifted as he exuded anger.

“Busy at work a little more?” I repeated “you haven’t spent any fucking time with me at all! When’s the last time we did anything together? When’s the last time we held hands or kissed or even just talked?”

“I have other commitments!” He argued “you don’t realise how important my work is!”

“Oh, I think I do” I said sharply, scowling at him “but I’m a commitment too and clearly you can’t commit to me, so I’m doing you a favour.”

“Running away is a favour?” He had stopped shouting but the acidity of his words were still present.

“Why do you care?” I asked, my anger was dying down a little as we got to the root of the problem “you don’t even love me anymore.” Silence.

“You doubt my love for you?” His face was still blotched red with fury but his expression was one of confusion and hurt “is this not an expression of my love?” He held up the dress.

“Material goods don’t equate to love.”

“You never complained about the material goods I’ve lavished you with before” He eyed the necklace I was wearing. It was true that he had given it to me, a pendant of a bird ‘A dove for my dove’ he had said when he had given it to me.

“Don’t you see the difference between these two?” I felt tired of having to explain myself to him but this was going to be the last time we’d talk so I soldiered through it “when you gave me this necklace you said how you saw it and it made you think of me, remember?” I gripped the dress he was holding “when you bought me this you just talked about how much it was worth.”

“And so you concluded that I didn’t love you, just like that?”

“No” I said, offended that he didn’t think I valued our relationship “when’s the last time you touched me?” Tom was the one to drop his gaze from me now “you don’t want to talk to me or embrace me, I’d go as far to say that you don’t want me.” Tom stayed quiet so I continued “I don’t know if there’s someone else or if you just feel nothing for me anymore but please, for both my sake and yours tell me. Tell me you don’t love me, let me go.” I whispered the last part, I was tired of shouting. I just wanted him to understand why I had to do this and to give me closure but instead he was standing there with the face of a scolded puppy. 

“I can’t” he croaked, his voice sounded strained. Like he was struggling to get the words out.

“Why not? It’s just four words” I implored; I was desperate for him to grant me freedom.

“How can I tell you I don’t love you when I still do?” His hands moved up to touch my face; his thumb traced circles on my cheeks while his other hand stroked my hair. I forgot how much I loved his touch; I closed my eyes for a couple of seconds to revel in the feeling. I wanted to forget about leaving him and Paris and the fact that my train was leaving in three hours time. I wanted to tell Tom that I loved him too but I thought about the times he would value his work before me. He forgot my birthday because he was in Russia and I had wondered if he would call me but he didn’t. I got a black eye from an attempted mugging not too long ago; Tom didn’t say anything even though it took two weeks to heal. He forgot me so easily, he could do it again. I opened my eyes.

“Let me go” I echoed “if you love me then you’ll let me go.” Tom pulled away; suddenly he didn’t look as dominating and strong as he had once done. He looked small, like a lost child or an abandon puppy dog. I turned to my belongings and started to fold them again even though my hands were shaking terribly. Neither one of us said anything. He just watched me pack up my things and when it came time to leave we still didn’t say anything to one another. We looked at each other for the last time and then I turned to leave. Tears stung my eyes and my heart ached from being wrenched from my lover’s hands but I kept walking. What else could I do?


	2. Two Years Later

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> OC is in London for the end of her book tour, she bumps into Tom again after two years apart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like happy endings and I couldn’t resist giving these guys one (or at least a happier ending.) Do enjoy!

The black shop front and gold lettering evoked so many happy memories that it was hard not to smile. It looked almost identical to the last time I had been here, save for the new books on display. The Waterstones in Hampstead had always been my favourite of all the Waterstones bookshops. I had spent so long looking at all the books, imagining what it would be like to have my own books on their shelves and at long last all three of the books from my trilogy were here. Copies lined their shelves and tables as if they belonged there, I couldn’t help but feel a swell of pride as I looked upon the covers.

“We’re so pleased to have you” the manager – Amy – said as she approached me. She offered her hand for me to shake and it was almost strange to shake back. Having lived in mainland Europe for the past two years I was used to the customary kisses on the cheek as a greeting instead of shaking hands. Amy noticed this and laughed “I see living in Paris has changed you.”

“Moi?” I asked, playing along with the joke “it’s been the best thing for me” I added “I needed a change of scenery.”

“Well I’m glad you’re back, are you staying in London for long?”

“I’m here for a week actually” I said “I like spending a little extra time at the end of a tour in whatever country I’m in. Just to relax and explore.”

“I suppose you’ll be able to visit family and friends while you’re here too” Amy suggested.

“Definitely, there are so many people I miss” I said with a half smile. My mind had turned to one person in particular but I had to push them – him – away to focus on the signing. He haunted my dreams, both night and day. My heart yearned for him but my head wouldn’t allow it. Too often had I led with my heart and too often had my heart been broken, it was only when my head took control that I was able to quietly organise plans for my new life. Since then, I had left my heart caged and tried to ignore it but it was difficult.

“You’ll be sitting here” Amy said, showing me the chair I would sit on for the rest of the day. I still couldn’t believe that I was popular enough to have so many fans that were willing to wait a ridiculous amount of hours in the sun, snow or rain just to get me to sign their copy of my book. Once I was seated, offered various drinks and given enough pens to last me throughout the day, they opened the doors and people rushed up, eager to queue.

***

“Hi, I’m such a huge fan” the girl gushed, she must have only been in her late teens but her face was reminiscent of a young child on Christmas morning “I’m so glad you decided to give the story a happy ending.”

I smiled “happy endings are so rare in real life, I thought I should give the story one, especially as it seemed like it wasn’t going to end happily.”

“Don’t you think happy endings can happen in real life?” She asked curiously.

“I always hold out for the hope of one but I know that it’s not always the case” I said.

“I know I should probably be more realistic with love but it’s so hard” she said and I understood exactly what she meant. I wanted to tell her that I used to be just like that but I held my tongue.

***

“How long have you been waiting?” I asked. I was eternally fascinated with how long people were willing to wait just for me.

“Four hours” the man said, he was clutching his book to his chest before passing it to me to sign.

“Four hours?” I was simultaneously shocked and impressed “I hope this was worth it” I laughed.

“Believe me this is worth it” he said “can you make it out to Julie? She’s my girlfriend but she lives in Canada so I’m getting a copy signed for her birthday.”

“Of course” I said cheerily “it must be tough with her living all the way in Canada.”

“Yeah, long distance is hard” he said thoughtfully “in fact we broke up a couple of years ago because we thought it was too much work and life just got in our way but we couldn’t live without each other so we decided to give it another go and really try.”

“You were willing to try again even though it didn’t work out the first time?” I asked.

The man was quiet for a couple of seconds as he thought, then he said “I guess sometimes you can meet the right person but at the wrong time” he smiled as he took back his book “if you love them and they love you even after a long period of time, it’s worth trying again.” His words stuck with me as I signed books and chatted to other fans. I was enthralled with the notion of being with the right person at the wrong time and the fact that you would find that person again…

***

“Thank you so much for this” I said to Amy as I put my coat back on.

“No, thank you! I can’t imagine the pain your hand must be in by now, you’re a saint.” Amy said and I winced as I moved my fingers tentatively.

“It’s worth it to meet everyone” I said. It was around four pm and already the skies had begun to darken. Such, is British winter time. I said goodbye and thank you to all the staff again and started on my journey home.

As I stepped out the bookshop, I stopped to wrap my scarf around my neck. It was a little nippier than I assumed it would be. I idly wondered if it would snow soon and recalled memories of London in snow. It was especially special when it would snow heavily on a school day and instead of double maths or chemistry I would get to play in the snow and drink hot chocolate. When I got older it still remained special, I would be that one annoying person who felt the need to wake everyone else up and tell them that it was snowing. Needless to say, no one joined in with my enthusiasm. Well, maybe one person…

“Ow!” I yelped as someone’s shoulder collided in with mine while passing me; bringing me back to reality. I heard the thunk of something dropping to the floor and when I looked down, it was a book. My book. I picked it up and turned around to tell the person that they dropped their copy.

“I’m so sorry! I-“ his words were cut off when he realised who I was and I realised who he was.

“Tom” my throat suddenly felt drier than a desert. His hair was the same auburn colour but instead it was much longer and styled into something akin to a quiff. He was wearing a very familiar white shirt under his black coat. This particular shirt had been a personal favourite of mine (maybe second favourite to that baby blue shirt of his.)

“I-I was just coming to get my copy signed but I think I got here too late” he said, both of us seemed to forgo the usual greetings and pleasantries that were usually used when starting a conversation. My heart was hammering in my chest. It had been such a long time since I had seen him. I had been going cold turkey; not daring to look at pictures of him or saying his name and yet here in front of me was Tom. 

His eyes were still gunmetal blue and were desperately darting all over me like he was trying to memorise every detail of me. My own eyes couldn’t help but trace over the features of his face. The generally clean shaven face was replaced with ever so slightly ginger stubble. It looked good. Really good. He looked really good. I felt a pang in my chest; he was clearly over me while I was still struggling to acknowledge that I was still terribly; tragically; totally in love with him.

“I can um, sign your copy if you want” I said hesitantly.

“Yeah?” His eyes lit up, he looked surprised. I suppose he thought I would turn him away but if he could be okay with this breakup then so could I.

“Sure, should… Should I make it out to someone in particular?” I asked, remembering the man from earlier who was getting his copy signed for his Canadian girlfriend.

“No, it’s just for me” he smiled wryly. I fished a pen out of my bag and opened the cover up to sign it. Maybe his new girlfriend didn’t read? Or maybe she didn’t read the kind of books I wrote? I handed the book back and put the pen away, I wanted to ask but I knew it wasn’t my place. Besides, if I asked then he would realise how lonely and desperate I was.

“How are you?” He blurted out; he collected himself and then tried again “how… How have you been?”

“I’ve been good” I tried to say casually “how’s everything been with you?”

“It’s been… hard.” He confessed “I quit my job.”

I was gobsmacked “you quit your job?” Tom’s job was everything to him, he took pride in the work he did and eventually that pride meant more than me. Hence the present…

“It wasn’t doing me much good” he said “but you knew that.”

“So what do you do now?”

“The same position, just another company” he explained “a smaller company but I believe they have great potential.”

“So it’s working out well?”

“Very well, there’s less stress. I can focus on other things better now.” So he was in a relationship.

“That’s good” I said mildly. I looked around, a non verbal gesture that I wanted to leave. 

“Are you going to be in London for much longer?” He pressed. He didn’t seem to want to end the conversation.

“Just a week” I said “I missed London a lot; I wanted to spend a little more time here before heading back.”

“Could we meet again?” He asked cautiously “for dinner maybe?”

“Dinner?” I repeated in disbelief. What would his girlfriend think? What was he thinking?

“Just to catch up” he defended, shrugging and looking down. He almost seemed shy.

“Won’t your g- I mean… Don’t you have other um, obligations?” I asked as tactfully as possible.

“Work is more controlled than before” he suddenly raised his eyebrow, an action that meant he understood what I was hinting at “I don’t have any other obligations at the moment” he said, a small smile playing up on his lips much to my embarrassment.

“You want to catch up?” I asked, feeling a little doubtful. Maybe I shouldn’t…

“We ended in a bad place and I want to amend that to the best of my ability.” His words sounded rehearsed, like he had practised saying them before hand.

“Why?” The question came out before I had any time to contemplate his reasoning.

“You were right to leave me” he said softly “my life was getting out of hand, it wasn’t healthy. I made a lot of changes to my life to try and fix it but I still can’t seem to get over you and I think” he paused to run his fingers through his hair, effectively messing up the perfect quiff “I think it’s because we ended the way we did, does that make sense?”

I nodded “you want closure?”

“I want you” he divulged quickly before correcting himself “I mean, I want you to be okay with me, um, that didn’t sound any better did it?”

I couldn’t help but giggle, he reminded me of what he was like when we first met. A little dorky but sweet and funny and honest. This was the man I had fallen in love with.

“Does tomorrow evening work for you?”


	3. Rekindled

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> OC decided to meet up with her ex Tom for dinner after running into him and is confused about where her relationship with him stands, especially as he’s being all playful and charming…

Out of all the problems to plague me now, this was the one I had least expected. I was stood in my complimentary bathrobe in front of my suitcase. Clothing laid strewn out across the generously sized bed. This was all Tom’s fault. He was keeping his lips sealed about where he was taking me for dinner. I had tried to reason with him, asking for him to reveal the kind of place he was taking me to or to hint at what I should wear but he wouldn’t budge an inch.

Huffing, I decided upon a lacy, wine red dress. I didn’t think too much of it until I had finished putting on my make-up. A second glance in the mirror made me rethink the outfit choice. Maybe the red lace was a tad too provocative; it hugged my body and encouraged others to look anywhere but my eyes. Would it send some sort of a message? I was unsure of what one was meant to wear when they were invited out to dinner with their ex. I looked at the navy dress I had also brought along; it lay, rejected on my bed. It was a little more casual (a daytime dress more than a night time one) but infinitely less seductive. I worried over whether or not it would be appropriate enough, perhaps the navy number would fare better?

Before I could even reach around to struggle with the zip of the dress I heard a knock at the door.

“Shit” I muttered under my breath. Too late. I grabbed my coat and my bag and headed to the door. I had to bite the insides of my cheeks when I saw Tom to stop any audible sounds of surprise. He was dressed in a crisp white shirt and a red tie. The suit itself was a matte black three piece ensemble; as always it was fitted against him nice and snug. It wasn’t that I hadn’t seen Tom dressed like this before, but it had been a long time since I had seen him dressed to the nines and even I couldn’t deny that nothing suited him like a suit.

“Do I look okay?” I asked anxiously “I didn’t know what to wear.”

“You look ravishing” he stated, his eyes raked down my body, admiring the lace covered curves and short hem of the dress. He took my hand and grazed his lips on the back of it “shall we?”

***

It turned out to be a charming restaurant that had opened recently in the centre of the city. Glancing at the other diners I felt a little better about my clothing option. There seemed to be a range of clothes, ranging from slightly casual to formal. I hoped I lay somewhere in the middle. The room was beautiful; reminiscent of something from The Great Gatsby.

“Do you like it?” Tom asked; his eyes watched me with amusement as I drank in the 1920’s art deco.

“Very much” I said meeting his gaze “it looks like somewhere you’d find F. Scott Fitzgerald hanging out at.”

“I’d nearly forgotten that you had a crush on him” he teased.

“He was a good looking man and a wonderful writer” I defended “not all of us swoon over iambic pentameter and neck ruffs.”

“To each their own” he said trying to hide the grin on his face with his menu. God, I’d forgotten what a nice smile he had… I willed my eyes to concentrate on the menu instead of Tom. He was my ex for a reason but I couldn’t help but still feel a little attracted to him.

“Mmm I know what I want” Tom said and my head shot up, for a split second I thought he was talking about me but when his eyes were still trained on the menu I felt my cheeks warm. Jesus Christ, does he know he’s doing that? I forced myself to look at all the different meal options and when we finally ordered I felt my nerves run amok inside me, we have to converse now and I can’t concentrate when he’s looking at me like that. I cleared my throat and took a sip of the white wine that the waiter had enthusiastically recommended.

“I hear you live in Paris now” Tom said as he swirled his own wine around in the glass.

“Yes” I said “I have a small apartment on Ile de la Cité.”

“Ah” Tom smiled “that suits you perfectly; somewhere quiet and intimate.” 

“It’s the perfect spot to write” I almost bite my tongue to stop myself asking “do you still live in Chelsea?”

“No, I too felt the need to move somewhere new” His tongue darts out to wet his lips. An involuntary action that always made me question whether or not it was involuntary; surely it couldn’t be as innocent as he claimed it was. “I live in Knightsbridge now.”

“I bet that impresses all the girls” I joked lightly.

“It’s not the only thing that impresses all the girls” he said with a wink.

“I don’t know what you’re suggesting” I said wide-eyed.

“Oh, I think you know what I mean” he said before lifting his glass to his lips; his eyes kept contact with mine. He seemed to be particularly playful tonight; eager to joke and cavort like we were old friends. Maybe we could be friends? I had missed Tom in many respects, but what I had craved the most from him was the companionship he had offered. He had been my boyfriend but he had also been my best friend. We would play Scrabble or watch films or he’d tell me that sometimes he was overwhelmed with the amount of responsibility he had and I’d stroke his hair to comfort him. We were always so close that it had been strange when he started ignoring me.

“Tom?” I was desperate to ask now. Why had he started to ignore me? I knew work was difficult but was there something else? Had there been someone else?

“Yes?” He sensed the change in atmosphere and had adapted accordingly. However, before I could ask, the waiter interrupted me with our meals. We were both distracted by the plates of delicious smelling food. I had opted for the seared scallops and Tom had chosen the fettuccine alfredo.

“Honestly, I’m not surprised you picked the fettuccine” I said as he twirled the pasta onto his fork.

“It’s always been my favourite ever since we went to Rome” he said with a grin “Hey, remember when…” And just like that I had forgotten about what I had wanted to talk to him about and instead joined him in reminiscing about the week we spent holidaying in the Eternal City. We talked and ate, sharing stories and memories like when Tom had gotten horribly sunburnt or when I tripped several times trying to walk on the sands of Ostia in heels as we sampled the local clubs. It was nice to be with Tom and to look back at our adventures before it had gone downhill. Tom told me that he had been to Rome a couple of months ago and had stayed in the same hotel.

“Nothing’s changed” he said “their beds are still the most comfortable thing to sleep on.” I broke our shared eye contact when he mentioned the beds. I didn’t recall an awful lot of sleeping during that week… And what a glorious week that was.

“Do you want to order dessert?” I asked, breaking away from the topic. While it was nice to look back, it felt strange to recollect certain memories. I was cringing a little. Okay, maybe a lot.

“Do you?” He asked after we both thanked the waiter for taking away our empty dishes. He had presented us with dessert menus and left once more.

“I don’t know if I could eat any more but I like the sound of raspberry sorbet” I admitted.

“We could split it?” He suggested and I agreed. It wasn’t too soon that we were sharing a glass that contained a bright pink icy desert in it. It was sweet, with a tart edge to it. I couldn’t help but sigh softly in pleasure as I experienced the cool sensation on my taste buds. Tom watched and smiled.

“I missed you” he divulged, spooning a small amount of the sorbet from his side of the glass.

“I missed you too” I admitted “I missed this.” I looked at him to see if he understood.

“I missed this too” he agreed and nothing more was said. A comfortable silence followed as we enjoyed the raspberry sorbet and the connection that we thought had been lost.


	4. Curious

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> OC is confused about her feelings regarding her ex Tom and the reason they broke up, especially after the day they spend together (hint hint it includes IKEA furniture getting built)

“He’s different but the same” I took a sip of the tea that had just about cooled down. My mum always made the best tea; it had been a while since I had seen her face to face but we chatted on Skype often and kept in close contact despite the distance.

“In what way?” She pressed; Mum was a therapist until she had me. Her focus and advice had always made her the perfect person to talk to and I was eternally thankful for the amount of tears she had wiped from my face and hugs she had given me.

“He’s more attentive than he used to be and so much more laid back and open and friendly than he was when I was last with him” Mum nodded, encouraging me to keep talking “but it reminds me of what he used to be like, before he started to neglect me.”

“So, it’s like he…” Mum took a sip of her own tea as she searched for the word “evolved?”

“Yes” I agreed “exactly like he evolved.” I pulled a face “this is so complicated.”

“You’re wondering if he’s changed enough” I looked down into the mug “you still have feelings for him.”

“I don’t know” I sighed “I don’t want to fall into the same trap. I hate that I wear my heart on my sleeve, I keep trying to think things through logically but it’s hard to go against how you feel.”

“The heart wants what the heart wants” Mum smiled and squeezed my hand “you were always such a sensitive child and God knows you were dramatic too.”

“I was clearly born to write” I said with a grin.

“Things will work out, dear” she said, taking my mug and hers to the sink “but first things first, when are you going to see him again?”

***

It was weird thinking about going to Tom’s house to help him assemble IKEA furniture but here I was in the passenger seat of his car, listening to him tell me about how he had gotten a new bed frame last week. His car was still a Jaguar but a newer model; it was much bigger too, no longer a two door car. I was pleasantly pleased however by that fact that it was still the same make, I had always admired Jaguar’s and often told him how much I liked that he drove one. I distinctly remembered also telling him how sexy it was that he drove a Jaguar and I felt my cheeks warm as I looked at him driving. Damn it…

“I wouldn’t have had to get a new bed frame if it wasn’t for Serenity” he sighed. I froze. Who was Serenity? Was that his new girlfriend? Why wasn’t he asking her to help him? Did… Did they break a bed or something, what? Ew! “You two will finally be able to meet” Tom smiled “I bet you two will be the best of friends before the end of the day.”

“I’m sure we will” I said looking out the window. The busy streets and shops did nothing to distract me. When we stopped at a traffic light I watched one woman in particular as she crossed the road. Her arms bore a couple of bags, obviously she had been enjoying a day shopping with the two other women (her friends presumably.) She was tall and slender with long golden hair. I wondered if Serenity looked like that. Or like the lady behind her, a short brunette who was dressed in a shirt and pencil skirt. My stomach churned as we got closer to Tom’s home. Maybe this was a bad idea.

***

Tom opens the door to let me into his townhouse first. I step in and look around. Most of his furniture was on the traditional side, following a colour scheme of dark browns and reds. I had expected something modern; leather and glass; blacks, greys and whites but instead it was old; comfortable. I liked all the rich colours and the gentleman’s club feel of the house.

“Nice digs” I complimented, looking over my shoulder at him.

“It’s alright” he said, taking my coat “come.” I follow him up the stairs and into a room at the end of the hall. It’s his bedroom. An IKEA box sits on the floor, begging to be put together. “Oh I thought she’d be in here” he said with a frown.

“Serenity?”

“Yeah, she’s probably downstairs” he said “do excuse me.” He rushed back out the door and down the stairs. I stood in the middle of the room where he left me with the chest of draws that needs to be put together. I looked at his bed; the new frame is dark in colour and has a suede tufted headboard. I wonder how the bed frame broke in the first place and shuddered at the suggestions that flooded my mind.

The door opening caught my attention, Tom peeked around it “I’d like to formally introduce you to Serenity” he said, a big grin on his face. I could hear clacking behind him, it didn’t sound like any shoes I was familiar with…

I composed myself, and reminded my lungs to work with me. I smiled; a sign that I was ready for him to open the door. Nothing could have prepared me for what I saw. I just couldn’t believe my eyes, a small gasp managed to come loose when I set my eyes on Serenity. All this time I had pictured Serenity to be some beautiful class A bitch with big eyes and a pout but never would I ever have guessed that Serenity would be what I was seeing.

“Don’t worry, she loves people” Tom said, seeing my bewildered face.

“I…” I couldn’t say anything. My voice was failing me.

“Go on” Tom said “you haven’t gone off dogs have you?”

“N-no” I managed to say, offering my hand to the golden retriever who sniffed it briefly before deciding to lavish me with licks. I giggled, her tongue felt tickly on the back of my hand. I dropped to my knees to get closer and Serenity let my hands stroke over her head and scratch her behind her ears.

“She loves you” Tom said, moving to sit next to me.

“You have a dog!” I exclaimed, my mouth finally working with me.

“I do” he said, his hand running down Serenity’s back which made her tail wag even harder.

“I can’t believe you got a dog” I said, watching as Serenity licked his face causing Tom to chuckle “you always said we couldn’t get one because we’d need a garden.”

“I have a garden now” he said, Serenity perked up her head at the words ‘garden’ and her tail wagged at warp speed “do you want to go in the garden?” He asked her, his voice was high as if talking to a baby. Serenity barked to show her enthusiasm and Tom looked at me “I’ll be back in a tick.” Then both he and Serenity left to go downstairs. My mind processed what had just happened. Serenity wasn’t a person; she wasn’t his girlfriend, she was his dog. Well technically I wasn’t one hundred percent off; I mean she’s still a bitch… Just a different kind.

I heard faint barking and Tom running back up the stairs “she’ll be happy outside” he said “especially since its a little warmer today.”

“How old is she?” I asked helping him open the box.

“A year” he smiled “I’ve had her since she was eight weeks old.”

“Aw, eight week old puppy” I said imagining Tom holding a baby Serenity. Tom had always liked dogs and was overjoyed whenever any friend adopted one. He’d always bring over a toy or treats or a new collar whenever we visited any of them and we constantly talked about adopting one.

“I have some pictures I can show you after this” he offered “you’d be surprised at how small she used to be.”

“I’d love to” I agreed, God he had such nice eyes and a nice smile. Actually he had a nice face full stop. He was wearing a black t-shirt and jeans. Simple but oh so appealing, I probably look awful. I had overslept a bit and had just thrown on some jeans and my old pink jumper.

“I always loved this jumper” he murmured, daring to stroke his thumb along the cuff.

“You liked how soft it was” I said, watching him thumb the material with a soft smile on his lips.

“It’s still just as soft” he said, the skin either side of his eyes crinkled as he smiled. I always loved that even though he often complained that it made him look older than he was.

“W-we should probably get started” I said looking down. My cheeks felt horribly warm and Tom smiled knowingly. My skin wasn’t dark enough to hide the blush completely but usually camouflaged it pretty well. Of course usually people weren’t this close to my face.

“Still so bashful” he mumbled, more to himself than me. Then he sighed softly and resumed opening the box.

“Should I read the instructions?” I asked, taking the white booklet.

“Sure” he agreed “hey, can we fix it?” he poked me in the arm with the screwdriver.

“Ow, what?”

“Can we fix it? Come on you know what comes next!”

“Yes we can” I said with a lack of enthusiasm but I couldn’t help but giggle when he started humming the Bob the Builder theme tune.

The next couple of hours had its ups and downs.

“So line up L1, L2, R2 and then R1” I said.

“Line up what?”

“L1, L2, R2 and R1” I repeated.

“I’m lost” he admitted.

“Look” I said, showing him the picture.

“Why didn’t you just say so” he said and I rolled my eyes.

***

“Oh wow, it’s actually starting to look like something.”

“Impressed?”

“Very” I said.

“Do I get a prize?” He winked suggestively.

“You get the acknowledgement of knowing you did well” I responded blandly.

“Gee, thanks.”

***

“You’re meant to screw them in clockwise.”

“Well they’re not screwing in clockwise so I have to do it anticlockwise.”

“Well then you’re doing it wrong”

“Fine, you try” Tom handed the screwdriver to me and I started to turn it clockwise but like Tom said, they weren’t screwing in “see, I told you” he said.

“Tom you’re using the wrong screws” I swatted the instruction manual at his arm.

“You told me to use these ones!”

“No I didn’t I said use the short ones with the round tops.”

“These are the short ones with the round tops.”

“No these are the long ones with the round tops.”

“Where are the short ones then?”

“Right here” I said moving them from the top of the box.

“Oh…”

“You’re such a muppet.”

***

“What do you think?” Tom asked, stepping back to look at it.

“It looks good” I said joining him by his side “we did that.”

“I think we deserve a cup of tea” he said.

“I second the motion” I said.

“Okay but first things first, I better get rid of the boxes and stuff” he said looking at all the tiny plastic bags and of course, the box.

“Should I let Serenity in?” I asked.

“Yeah, keys in the door.” He took the remnants of our building project and left.

“Where’s the door?” I asked the empty room, I laughed quietly to myself. Tom must have just assumed I knew where the door was despite never being here before today. I made my way down the stairs and headed in the opposite direction of the front door. Surely that’s where the back door would be?

Sure enough, it was there and I could see Serenity playing with a tennis ball. I twisted the key and opened the door; she turned her head in my direction at the sound.

“Come on Serenity” I said and she dropped the ball, running to get inside from the cold. The skies had begun to darken slightly and I couldn’t tell if it was because the days were getting shorter or if it was just bad weather. Perhaps it was a mixture of both?

***

“Chinese is on its way” Tom informed me.

“Yay” I petted Serenity’s head. She had insisted that her space would be in between Tom and me but since he had gotten up to get his phone to make the call for the takeaway she had stretched out her legs, effectively taking Tom’s space.

“I can’t believe this” he said, looking at his dog. Her head was resting on my lap as I continuously stroked her.

“Let sleeping dogs lie” I said, meaning it literally and then patted the space next to me “just sit here.”

“She really likes you” Tom said sitting next to me.

“I really like her” I commented.

“You looked a little scared when you were about to meet.”

“I didn’t know Serenity was a dog” I pointed out “you never even mentioned you had a dog.”

“Well who did you think Serenity was?”

“Um, a person” I said as if it were the most obvious choice (which it was.)

“I told you I didn’t have a girlfriend” he said.

“No you didn’t” I threw my head back dramatically, resting it on the sofa cushion so that I was looking up at the stark ceiling.

“I told you I didn’t have any other obligations” he said and I turned my head so that I was looking at him.

“’Obligations’ isn’t a synonym for girlfriend” I reminded “it could have meant anything.”

“It didn’t” he said, more gently than I thought he would “I haven’t even been on a single date since we broke up.”

“I thought you were seeing someone else” I said.

“When?”

“When we broke up; I thought the reason you weren’t interested in me anymore was because there was someone else.”

“What?” His brow furrowed “that’s not what happened.”

“Then what did happen?”

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair “it’s a long story…”


	5. Listening

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Following the events of Curious Tom tells OC why he was so distant

“Do you remember Derek Goldsmith?” Tom asked. My mind recalls memories of Mr Goldsmith - ‘Please, call me Derek’ - also known as Tom’s boss. He was CEO of the company and we were often invited over to his abode for dinner parties and cocktail evenings. He was remarkably open and free despite the pressures of his job. At the ripe old age of sixty he still managed to enjoy scotch, golf and good conversation as well as running his multimillion pound company.

“Yes, I remember him” I told Tom. He had always been kind; welcoming me and making sure to ask about my writing whenever I’d appear on Tom’s arm. I distinctly remembered him always drawing me to one side to ask if Tom had ‘popped the question’ and I’d laugh and tell him ‘no, not yet’ much to his disappointment.

“He wanted to retire so he started grooming me to be CEO” Tom watched my face carefully “you’re surprised.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” I said, a little more hurt than surprised. We always shared big events in our life with one another.

“I couldn’t” his expression sympathised with mine “Derek told me to keep it a secret, he hadn’t announced his retirement yet and he wanted to make sure I was up for the job.”

“And were you?” I asked, although I was starting to piece it together like a half done jigsaw puzzle in my head.

“I was” Tom smiled without it reaching his eyes “Derek had me making the decisions while he gave the orders. I was able to experience the life of a CEO and it was challenging but great fun at the same time.” I nodded at him, wanting him to continue “I was competing for the position though. I’m sure you remember Martin Fielding.”

“Of course” I grumbled, Martin Fielding was in charge of international relations or some such thing, he was one of the most arrogant beings I had ever encountered. He had firstly told me that he read my book which was a lovely thing to say but then he had to criticise it in a way that was anything but constructive. He had pointed out how unrealistic the idea of a woman with a sword was and how it wasn’t a true representation of women because apparently a woman’s place was in the kitchen. ‘He’s a waste of your time and energy’ Tom had told me when I spent the car ride home complaining about his blatant misogyny. ‘He’s a waste of everyone’s time and energy’ I had muttered and Tom rewarded me with a kiss on the back of my hand ‘forget him’ Tom told me ‘let’s see if we can’t get rid of all this pent up frustration another way, hmm?’

“He somehow caught wind of my training and decided that he was a better candidate. So Derek and I agreed to include him in our program but he decided to take things to the next level.” Tom rolled his eyes to demonstrate his exasperation “he felt compelled to fight me anywhere and anytime he could.”

“Sounds annoying” I said softly.

“It was” he agreed “I snapped one day and resolved to crush him once and for all. I went to great lengths to do so but everything was starting to build up; the pressures of preparation for CEO and the hatred I had for Martin blinded me from everything else. Other things in my life had to be sacrificed so that I could reach my goal but I’m sure I don’t have to tell you that” he said, swallowing.

“I wish you told me” I said “I could have helped.”

“I know” he closed his eyes and he rested his head in his hands “you could have but I didn’t let you.”

“Is that why you were so reluctant to let me touch you?” I asked and Tom exhaled.

“All the responsibility and stress were weighing me down so much that I started to struggle…” he said vaguely.

“Struggle with what?”

“Maintaining” he said, it was still vague but the words clicked.

“I’ve heard that it’s normal if you’re under a lot of stress” I said.

Tom looked up to give me a wry smile “you’ve heard?”

“They play those erectile dysfunction ads when you watch late night TV” I said with a shrug “you shouldn’t be like that man who was sitting in the tree; you should climb down the ladder the fireman gives you.” I realised that out of context of the commercial I sounded a little ridiculous but Tom just laughed.

“You’re right” he tentatively reached to hold my hand, instantly becoming more serious “and I’m so sorry. I am so unbelievably, painfully, irrevocably sorry that I shut off from you; that I neglected you when I should have been holding you closer than ever before. I was such a fucking idiot.”

“Yeah, you were” I said softly, looking down at our clasped hands. I squeezed his hand and he squeezed back “I’m your friend too” I said finally, looking up to meet his gaze “you can tell me anything.”

“My best friend” he corrected, his hand raised to cup my cheek and I let him, even leaning in to his touch. “I’m sorry” he said again.

“I know” I said. I closed my eyes when he kissed my forehead gently. “I don’t know if I can forgive you right away, it hurt. A lot.”

Tom’s face (mere inches away from mine) crumbled slightly but he nodded “I understand. Will you let me make it up to you?”

“How?”

“Any way you want; every way you want.”

“Well… It’s a start.”


	6. The universe has other ideas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> OC wants to allow her ex Tom back into her life as nothing more than a good friend but when a snowstorm, blackout and vivid dream occur, it’s clear that the universe has other ideas…

Everything was perfect. Here I was, warm and full of Chinese food sitting with Tom and Serenity the golden retriever, watching Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory. My head was on Tom’s shoulder but it didn’t feel romantic, it was natural; comfortable. Serenity had switched positions once again, deciding she wanted Tom’s affection as well as mine and so, had somehow squeezed herself in between me and Tom. She had since fallen asleep and who could blame her?

“I always loved this film” Tom murmured softly as the credits began to roll.

“Me too” I agreed. I didn’t want to move but I knew it was probably getting late and I should think about heading back to the hotel. “What time is it?” I asked, bringing myself away from Tom to stretch.

“Ten forty” Tom replied “you’re not thinking of going back to the hotel are you?”

“Well, yeah” I said “it’s where my stuff is.”

“But its late” he protested “and look at the weather, it’s practically a snowstorm.”

“I think you’re over exaggerating a little” I laughed “It’s only snowing lightly.”

I regretted my words immediately because all of a sudden the lights cut out. We were in total pitch black darkness and I squeaked in surprise, waking up Serenity who was equally confused.

“Only snowing lightly huh?” Tom chuckled.

“I’m sure the power will come back on soon” I reasoned. The wind howled outside as if it were giving its own opinion; it didn’t sound promising. I used the torch function on my phone to illuminate the area and lead me to the window. It was snowing rather heavily from what I could see.

“I don’t think you’ll be able to get back tonight” Tom said, joining me by the window.

“So I have to stay here?” I asked in a small voice. I felt unsure about the prospect of being near Tom for so long. I had wanted us to take everything slow but it seemed like the universe had other ideas.

“I’m afraid so” Tom said, squeezing my shoulder in an attempt to comfort me “come on.” He said simply, taking my hand. He led me, using the light from his own phone to guide me up the stairs. My eyes had started to adjust to the darkness but I still gripped Tom’s hand, not wanting to lose him to the shadows. He took me to a room at the opposite end of the hall. It was another bedroom.

“You have a guestroom?” I asked, sitting on the bed while he fiddled with something on the small desk.

“I thought it would come in handy” he said nonchalantly, noise erupted from the desk area making me jump.

“What are you doing?” I asked, feeling a little helpless at this point. Tom was always naturally dominant so I always looked to him for guidance. I liked how dependable he was; no matter what happened, Tom was always there.

“Battery radio” he replied, tuning it to find a news station.

“Heavy snowfall is sweeping the nation causing severe blackouts” the female voice from the radio said “authorities insist that citizens stay inside during this evening as meteorologists predict that the snowfall has the potential to decrease in as little time as tomorrow morning. More updates coming soon…”

“So I guess you’re stuck with me until tomorrow” I joked lightly.

“You make it sound negative” he said, switching off the radio. He instantly went into care giving mode when he turned around. He offered me blankets and candles and towels and Oh, I don’t know if the hot water will be working but maybe I could find a way to make some tea?

“I’ll be fine, this won’t be the first time I’ve experienced a blackout” I said.

“Remember when we first started dating” he said “and the lights went out, you practically jumped into my lap” he laughed.

“You know how jumpy I am” I said defensively, crossing my arms across my chest “if I hadn’t done that then we’d never have had our first kiss.”

“Very true” Tom agreed; his voice had dropped an octave which wasn’t helping. Maybe I shouldn’t have brought it up, especially as Tom looked like he wanted to perform an encore of that famous night. I swallowed nervously when he approached me and leaned down. He took my hands in his; his thumbs circling on the top of my hands. Then, he placed a soft kiss on the top of my head and another on my hand.

“Goodnight dove” he said, his old pet name for me rolled off his tongue easily.

“Goodnight Tom.” He turned to leave, closing the door behind him. Being left in the silence I could hear the rapid thump thump thump of my heart. Get a grip! I told myself, settling under the sheets. I closed my eyes and hoped for sleep.

***

It didn’t come. I wanted to sleep; to fall into a peaceful slumber and forget everything but my body didn’t let me. The bed felt too cold, even with all the extra blankets Tom had given me. Maybe it wasn’t that the bed felt too cold but rather the bed felt too empty. I was confused with the revelation. I was used to sleeping in an empty bed, so why should I suddenly become so acutely aware of it now?

I stepped out of bed; the bare skin of my legs hit the cold air of the room making me shiver. I instantly regretted taking off my jeans earlier but I pushed myself to walk out the door and to the other end of the hallway. I hesitated, trying to listen for any sounds. The door was closed so I knocked. Nothing. I knocked again. Nothing. I opened the door and saw Tom sleeping under the covers. I approached the bed and climbed onto it next to him.

“Tom?” I whispered, poking his arm “Tom” I repeated, poking him harder.

“Mmm… What time is it?” His voice was sluggish and growly.

“Its one fifteen in the morning” I said “sorry.”

“What’s wrong?”

“I couldn’t sleep” I admitted, hoping he would remember all the times I struggled with sleep. He’d usually just hold me and rub slow comforting circles on my back with his hand and tell me to talk to him. I realised that I missed that - someone who would listen.

“Talk to me” he said, just like it were old times. I switched from sitting cross legged next to him to lying down. “Get under the covers” he commanded, his voice still managed to sound assertive even though he also sounded like he was on the edge of sleep. I slipped underneath the covers, shifting to find a comfortable position.

“This doesn’t feel weird but I think it’s meant to” I confessed.

“I know” he yawns “I feel like that too.”

“You’re meant to be my ex” I said “why am I lying next to you in bed?”

“You’re making it sound scandalous” he said; amusement lining his voice.

“It is scandalous”

“I think you’re being over dramatic” he rubs his eyes, sounding more awake now.

“I am not” I pouted but I knew he was right. I always had a tendency to over react; Tom often said I would make a terrific actress.

“Do you regret seeing me again?”

“No” I said truthfully “but I keep forgetting that we’re not who we used to be. “ I swallow nervously “When I leave, what happens to us?” I ask.

“Do you want to keep in touch?”

“Like… Friends?”

“I was thinking best friends” he smiles “we could see each other on the odd weekend and catch a film like old times.”

“I like the sound of that” I said but before anything more could be said, I heard the pitter patter of paws.

“Did you leave the door open?” Tom asked, even though the answer was fairly obvious.

“Was I not meant to?” As if to answer my question, Serenity jumped onto the bed and settled herself at the foot of the bed.

“I hope the bed doesn’t break again” Tom murmured as I giggled.

“This is nice” I said closing my eyes “I could get used to this.”

***

“I love you so much” Tom said, drawing me close to him. It had been a particularly eventful evening starting with a delicious dinner and a stroll through the city, we then found ourselves in the inevitable place of our bed in a more than passionate embrace. I felt like I was positively glowing as I lay, trying to regulate my breathing, in Tom’s arms.

“I love you too” I said, moving to kiss him. My own lips were slightly swollen from all the kisses and nibbles and sucking Tom had induced upon me but I didn’t care, I was too happy to care.

“You’re so beautiful” he whispered against the bare skin of my neck before sealing it with another kiss.

“Tom” I giggled as he started to rain more kisses down my neck “you’re getting greedy.”

“I am always greedy when it comes to you, my dove” he stated, continuing his worship of my collar bones now.

“I can’t believe you” I said, my fingers knotting in his hair as his lips started moving further south. His tongue had come out to play once again and I started to hear Tom’s effect on my breathing once again.

Tom moves back up to kiss me again on the lips again. The kiss was stronger than the previous one, it renders me incapable of using the Queen’s english and Tom takes great pleasure in that “You have witchcraft in your lips” he tells me before he goes any further…

***

“Good morning” Tom says softly as he notices me shift underneath the sheets. The light of the new morning was too bright and I struggled to stay asleep with it flooding the room so much. I make an incoherent noise as I try to clutch onto the departing hand of sleep. Tom chuckles “wake up sleeping beauty” he teases, combing my hair out of my face with his fingers.

“Tom” I mewl weakly.

“How did you sleep, dove?” I start to open my eyes properly and I notice that he’s lying next to me with a book in his hands. He’s set it down and turned to his side to face me, wanting to give me his undivided attention.

“Good” I reply languidly. I moved closer to him, nuzzling against his chest.

“You’re never going to be a morning person, are you?” His chest rumbles with a chuckle as he strokes my hair softly.

“Never ever” I said and before I can even consider what I’m doing I push myself up a little to kiss him. It’s been so long since I’ve last kissed not just him but anyone, that I feel a little strange. Only then do I realise why the kiss feels so peculiar. Yet his lips still move in perfect synchronisation with mine and he doesn’t do anything to stop me. I pull away suddenly, aware of my actions and immediately feel the warm wave of embarrassment flood through me. I don’t say anything and neither does he. We’re staring at one another; both of our expressions are one of surprise. Mine more in shock and humiliation, his more in shock and mirth.

“Oh, my God I’m so sorry” the words tumble clumsily from my mouth “I-I don’t know what came over me, oh, my God” I start to panic but Tom just laughs.

“Dove, its fine” he says, still laughing.

“No it’s not fucking fine! I just kissed you, oh God! It’s all that stupid dreams fault” I groaned.

“What dream?”

“Shit!” I sit with my head buried in my hands. So not only have you managed to kiss your ex boyfriend and ‘best friend’ but you’ve also managed to sleep in his bed in nothing but a pink jumper, have a dream all about you getting it on with him AND kiss him!

“Calm down silly!” Tom says, putting his arm around me.

“I can’t calm down! I’ve screwed up everything!”

“Nonsense, you’ve screwed up nothing” he reassures “Again with the dramatics, dove. Honestly at this rate you might as well give up writing and take up acting” he teases.

“I didn’t mean to kiss you” I said as quiet as a mouse.

“I know” I can’t place his tone “if it’s any consolation, it was a nice kiss.”

“Yeah?”

“Very nice.”


	7. Worth it

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Final(ish) installment in this series of one shots; OC discovers who her tears are worth when she’s stood up on a date

“Who’s this guy again?” Tom asked, his eyebrow was raised as he watched me spray on my perfume; infusing my skin with a light, floral scent. I could feel his disapproval, even through the webcam.

“His name is Ansel and he’s a very successful photographer” I repeated for perhaps, the third time.

“I’ve never heard of him” Tom scoffed as he crossed his arms. What a child.

“You don’t live in France, idiot” I said, rolling my eyes “he’s fairly well known here.”

“Why are you even going on a date?” Tom sulked, it was evident that he didn’t want me to go but that wasn’t up to him. I was beyond sure that Ansel wouldn’t take a fraction of interest in me but he approached me at the after party for an event we had both attended. He had been photographing it and I had just been present.

“He told me I was a joy to photograph” I echoed his words. Admittedly, it sounded cheesy in my voice but it had sounded like poetry from his lips.

“What a line” Tom ridiculed “he must be lacking in a certain department if he comes out with bullshit with that.”

“Tom!” I didn’t know if Ansel was lacking in any way, shape or form but that hardly put me off. The man was drop dead gorgeous, practically a God. He had long dark hair that he usually wore slicked back and hot damn, did it not beg to have someone run their fingers through it… He was tall, with a strong jaw line and it was obvious from the way his shirt had hugged his frame that he was not at all inadequate, at least, not in the muscle department.

“At least tell me how I look?” I asked, desperate to get away from the negativity spewing from Tom’s mouth. I didn’t know why he was being so mean, he didn’t even know Ansel.

Tom’s eyes traced over my body as I stood awaiting his judgement. I had bought a new dress for the occasion. A shimmery one that looked as though it were made of glitter. It was sleeveless and ended a couple of inches above my knees and as soon as I saw it I loved it.

“You look stunning” Tom said softly. The genuine words made my heart flutter but I was quick to break eye contact with him and fiddle with my hair.

“I hope he thinks so too” I said and before Tom can open his mouth to retort I say “I can’t wait to see you.” Tom was leaving London to come to Paris tonight for some business thing but he told me that he had scheduled in a couple of days dedicated to me.

“I can’t wait to see you too” Tom says and he looks like he wants to say something else but he was distracted by Serenity who had her lead in her mouth.

“Someone wants to go on a walk I think” I laughed watching the exchange. Tom petted the golden retriever on her head and smile sheepishly.

“I think so too.”

***

I had arrived at the restaurant ten minutes early due to my constant need to be early for everything. I settled myself at a two person table and waited. I pulled out my phone to check the time and a message from Tom that said that he was about to board his flight. I continued to wait as time continued to pass.

I’m still early…

He’s only five minutes late…

Maybe there’s traffic…

It’s starting to get late…

He could have run into trouble…

The waiter (bless his heart) looked worried and asked if I wanted another drink but I tried my best to smile and shake my head.

I keep checking my phone…

I leave him a message, maybe two…

Or three…

Other diners have also started to notice.

God, this is embarrassing…

Should I leave?

I look at the clock

It’s been two hours…

I pluck up the courage to ask the waiter for the check but he shakes his head and tells me it’s on the house. Pity, that’s all I need. I think bitterly but I thank the waiter, put on my coat and practically run out of the restaurant. Tears sting my eyes. I’d never been stood up before and I never thought I would be but here I was, pathetic and alone, trying not to cry in the middle of the Paris streets.

I thought he liked me…

I felt crumpled, like not an ounce of me mattered. I wanted nothing more than a hug. A big, warm, comforting hug. So I called the person I knew would listen to my pitiful sobs and say all the right things.

“Hey, Dove” Tom greeted cheerily, although I did detect a little bit of tiredness in his tone “how was the date?”

“Nonexistent”

“Wait, what?”

I told him about how I waited and waited and how it was all for nothing.

“It’s just that I thought that he might have really liked me. We clicked and everything” I whimpered.

“Then he’s an idiot and is most definitely not worth your time” Tom said, his tone softened “where are you? Are you on your way home?”

“I don’t know where I’m going but I don’t want to be alone right now.”

“I’ll come to you or you come to me?”

“I’ll meet you half way” I said and we kept talking to one another; narrating our journeys to each other as if to inform the other of how close we were to one another.

And then I saw him. Dark blue shirt and black coat and walking towards me. He wrapped his arms around me, enclosing me in the hug I craved. His hand rubbed circles on my back and he let me cling to him; my hands clutching at the fabric of his shirt. His body heat was leaking through his shirt and warming my shivering body.

My arms eventually looped around the back of his neck and I looked up at him through my damp eyelashes.

“Don’t cry” he whispers, wiping up the stray tears with his thumb “you shouldn’t cry about him, he isn’t worth your tears.”

“Worth my tears?” I repeat, confused about the words.

“Someone you love is worth your tears” he smiles to reassure me.

“You’re worth my tears” I admit. Looking at him to gauge his reaction, his smile wavers and instead of saying anything he just presses his forehead against mine.

“You’re worth mine too.”


	8. A Question

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> OC is nervous about asking Tom a question regarding the status of their relationship (a conclusion to these oneshots)

I wanted to ask him but even after practising the question in my head it still sounded clumsy; dumb; naive even. He’s sitting next to me; one hand holds his phone against his ear, the other rests casually on my knee as I pretend to read. He doesn’t even know how much I’m struggling to think of the words to say to him. I don’t know why I’m so nervous, it’s just Tom. I’ve known him for years. I know every inch of him and yet…

“Is something on your mind?” Tom’s voice makes me jump and blink wildly at him.

“What?” I drop my book.

“You’re so jittery” he points out, picking up my book “look at your leg.” I look down to see my leg shaking, I’m so transparent…

“Sorry” I try to smile but Tom’s brow just furrows in concern.

“You know you can tell me what’s wrong.”

“I know but it’s just uh, stuff, writing stuff. I’ve run into some writer’s block” I lied, what a chicken. Come on! Just tell him!

“I don’t know if I can really give any advice on that” Tom admitted but he smiled regardless “we could go out for coffee? Maybe that would help get your creative juices flowing?”

“That sounds good.”

Tom chatted to me as we made our way down to the nearest cafe. I nodded and smiled and laughed in all the appropriate places but I still felt distracted. Last night I had basically confessed that I loved him and he had (thankfully) returned the feelings. He was holding my hand and smiling in that special way that made my heart flutter extra fast but I still felt anxious as hell. It had all happened so quickly that I wasn’t one hundred percent sure where we stood. I needed him to be blunt; I needed clarity.

“Tom?” I asked bravely after spooning a little whipped cream from my hot chocolate.

He looked at me while sipping at his coffee “Hmm?”

“Um, I, uh” I was stumbling again. Abort mission! “Sorry, nothing, I lost my train of thought.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?” He asked, looking increasingly worried.

“No, yeah, I’m fine.” I said sipping at my hot chocolate which was the temperature of Satan’s bath water but I let the scalding beverage burn my tongue and changed the subject “so how’s work?”

What happens if he thinks I’m super dumb for asking about our relationship? The thoughts plagued me throughout our cafe trip (date?) and all the way back home. He’d probably think I was (a) an idiot and (b) think I didn’t want to be with him which would all result in © him leaving me. At least we’ll be even.

“Um, Tom, can I ask you a question?” I said, trying to sound confident and casual.

“Didn’t you just ask me a question?” He responded with a wolfish grin that made me roll my eyes.

“Yeah thanks dad” I said crossing my arms.

“I couldn’t resist Dove, go on.”

Don’t ask him don’t ask him don’t ask him “Well it’s just that” I started but already my words were catching in my throat, refusing to exit. Oh God he is going to laugh and say it’s the most ridiculous question ever! “It’s a bit silly and pointless a question really. I don’t think you’d even like this question.” I rambled.

“Then why ask it?” he countered.

“Okay” that shut me up. I concentrated on the film instead, scolding myself internally for being such a fool. It’s quiet for about five minutes and then Tom sighs softly.

“What’s your question?”

“Well, um, are we uh, dating?” I cringe as the words come out “I mean, what is our relationship exactly? Would I introduce you as my boyfriend? Is it too premature to say that?” I babbled.

Tom looks fairly amused and surprised by my question (or should that be questions?) He laughs just like I thought he would but it’s far from mocking, in fact its light, pleasant laughter. “Is this what’s been bothering you all day?”

“Well, yeah.”

“You can call me your boyfriend if you want.”

“So we’re dating?” I perk up; glad that this is going where I want it to go.

“I’d say so, wouldn’t you?”

“Yeah, I suppose so” I said shyly.

“Although honestly, given our history I’d rather be more than your boyfriend but I know that you want this to be slow, right?”

“Is that okay?”

“As long as I’m with you, I don’t care.”


End file.
